


forgiveness

by gabriphales



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Guilt, Introspection, Mild Hurt/Comfort, i suppose?? u could call it that, just a whole lotta guilt, themes of disordered eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:34:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23755450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: essek's struggling. jester helps, if only by being herself
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> this was for a friend uwu

it's miserable. 

there's a certain crawling guilt in essek's body he can't quite rip out. the sort of sensation that spirals into something deeper, thicker - until he's left in a viscous pool of his own self-loathing. the pit of shame he's built for himself. the worst part of it, of course, being that he _deserves_ this. every last blood vessel in every last limb expanded to soak up an arsenic-like, painful realization. he's bad. he's _bad._ and bad people deserve to suffer. bad people deserve all the agony they reap.

he isn't certain he can get out of bed. not even when caleb stirs him by a bonier than it used to be shoulder. the sharp jaunt and junctions of his body standing out more and more with every meal he deprives himself of. he can't bare to eat. can't bear to nourish the body that's brought about so much _hurt._

and kindness - kindness stings like alcohol to an already pulsating wound. it should help, it _will_ help, in the long run, at least. he realizes this is better for him than being left to rot in his own misery. but it's too much for an agonized mind to process that somehow, despite _everything_ he's done, there's still people willing to care for him.

jester drags him from his den of quilts and blankets when he can't muster up the courage to do so himself. she's an early morning savior, a chalice full of holy water with every step she encourages from essek's shaking, tremor-wracked ankles. and he - he doesn't know how to thank her, because how can you thank what you shouldn't be given in the first place? how can he thank her for _pitying_ him? it must be pity, why else would she look out for him like this? what else could spur her into this state of forgiveness?

how can she forgive him when he can't even forgive himself?

and there's breakfast waiting on the table. a bowl of porridge, just for him. complete with a nice sprinkling of brown sugar, because of course caleb would insist he has something sweet to help him get it down. he wonders how else the meal might have been magically tampered with. wonders if there's some sort of stomach-soothing properties to the undertones of every oat, every sip of the milk beside his food. 

he's been struggling with the whole digestive process for the last couple days - i.e, troubling his already troubled companions by spilling his guts out every time he tries to eat something. and he knows they'd do what they can to alleviate his symptoms. he knows they're always thinking, always coming up with new ways to make things _better._

and essek wishes he could have made things better, just once in his life.

still, when jester takes her seat, and essek's eye catches the noteworthy time on the kitchen clock - one in the afternoon, how long had he stayed in bed? - he makes sure to eat for her. because she's been waiting, she's waited all morning to have her food with him. and what more can he do to show gratitude than to supply her with the scene she's wanting - essek, content with himself, if only for a little while.


End file.
